


The Deal

by t8rd1sg1rl



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Double Penetration, Gang Rape, Humiliation, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Object Insertion, Rape, Urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 05:57:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4510413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t8rd1sg1rl/pseuds/t8rd1sg1rl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their demands were simple: meet their needs and choose who lives. They could all give it a shot or leave it to one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Deal

**Author's Note:**

> Be warned: this is gratuitous and not edited. I don't end things horribly though. I don't do character deaths but be aware that bad things do happen to the characters.

He was able to get Natasha and Bruce freed. His ass throbbed from the _negotiations_. They left the two dildos deep inside his ass, jeered as the leader fucked his mouth while they each took turns trying to fit their dicks into his stuffed hole. 

They tried. They all did. One came close. He felt himself tear. He shrieked, bucked and the dick ramming down his throat went too deep. He threw up. His bowels gave up. He passed out.

He woke up later mid-pass to the next cock slamming up into him to join the other cock. They told him as he gurgled in pain if he didn't pass out at all, they'll release Black Widow and Bruce.

Two by two. One by one. They spread him open so wide that when they were done, he swore his hole was left yawning and drooling with too much cum and piss.

He didn't pass out though.

And when they dragged him to their _fun_ room, two cells were empty.

It made things...bearable.

 

They hauled him up onto a table. They didn't like it when he fought them trying to spread him wide on stirrups. No, they didn't like that. The fifth sharp lash of a air whip felt like it cut through his balls. Whatever they used left no lasting damage because no, the Asshat leader told him, they wanted to keep him. At least until he became boring. Then they'll move to the others.

Like _hell_ they will.

He bargained. Years running a top rate company honed his words, reined back his snark and honeyed his tone. He had caught them looking. He knew they thought about it. And HYDRA wasn't as solvent as they used to be. Underpaid lackeys tend to be horny. 

So he...negotiated. 

They shook hands by way of him going down on his knees. His jaw cramped after the third one. He threw up after the sixth. He let the others cum on his face. Then, the leader threw him over the projection table that held their maps and fucked him. He fucked him hard. Fucked his fill. Fucked him until he sobbed out in agony.

Their shadows were projected on the screen. His agony, his violation, blown up in a seven foot by twelve mylar screen. 

The fucking wasn't part of the deal. No. He...they didn't discussed that. But he made sure to play up how much it had hurt. He even limped a little for show and shuddered at the sensation of the leader's cum eeling down his bruised thighs.

It wasn't that much of a lie.

So the final terms were struck. Be their whore, don't bite off their dicks and each day, the rest of the Avengers would be released far away from their stupid base they think was such a secret. Thor was coming back in a few days from Asgard and then...ha.

He could do this. 

The door creaked open. He heard Cap and Clint shouting, no, screaming obscenities (bad guys like to put things on live stream, God), but once the door slammed shut, their rage silenced.

"My turn," another nameless, faceless one snickered.

He closed his eyes. No use replying either way. He felt himself flipped to his stomach. He felt a body straddle his legs. He felt a grimy hand gripping one of the dildos sticking out of his hole. He breathed out. He bit his lower lip. He ignored the suspicious wetness on his cheeks.

Back to work.

 

Bastards.

They didn't let Clint or Steve go. Said they needed a backup whore.

They made them _watch_.

He fought the bastards then. He punched, cursed, kicked as they dragged him to the table on the center of the larger cell. They spanked him. Naughty naughty for fighting. Not part of the deal. They laid him over Cap's shield. He draped over the cool metal, his reddened ass obscenely up in the air. They showed Clint and Steve how large of a butt plug his puffy hole could take. They flipped him to show Clint and Steve how much he didn't like it when they inserted the catheter into his limp dick, pumped it swollen with warm fluid until he ached with the need to piss, but couldn't because his cock was engorged. 

He didn't fight the nipple clamps. The bastards said either he took them or Clint and Steve did.

He didn't fight the cocks forcing between his lips. 

He didn't fight them spreading him wide to show his friends his stuffed hole.

Him or them. Him or them.

No.

Only him.

His head rocked back with the thrusts. He had trouble staying still on top of the shield. He gagged, moaned helplessly as his throat worked. He squeezed his eyes shut because hearing Clint and Steve's harsh breathing was bad enough.

His eyes flew open when he felt the butt plug wrenched out of his hole and the blunt tip of a too big, too dry cock nudged his sore hole.

No. _No_. Not on the shield. Not with Steve watching. No, not on Cap's--

He howled around the thick erection as someone mounted him in a single thrust. There was no pause. His rapist _pounded_ into him as others clawed apart his buttock cheeks as more hands eased him up and back, drew up his knees--

Their leader materialized in front of him.

"Miss me, sweetheart?"

He couldn't answer. The cock in his mouth adjusted as its owner stood over him, his hairy crotch partially covering the leader as he clamored on top of the shield.

He bucked as he felt the newest cock inching up to join the other cock still fucking him in earnest. He thrashed, gagging as his frenzied movements inadvertently shoved the dick in his throat deeper. He couldn't breathe. His eyes watered. But all he could feel, all he could not want (because nonono not on Steve's shield) were the twin cocks ripping up into him, cumming and then pissing acid hot urine into his torn rectum.

He spasmed and cum. He didn't do that before. He didn't want them to win. But now he collapsed back to a heaving unfamiliar chest, eyes tearing, drooling cum as two cocks continued to fuck him, pissing and tearing and corrupting. And forced him to cum. 

Over Steve's shield.

He started crying over that, over Steve's anguished, "No, it's okay! It's not your fault!"

It...it wasn't part of the deal.

He was silent as the next person climbed up to replace the guy behind him. And the next. And the next. He keened airlessly as each new cock shoved up. He felt his insides twist. He convulsed as he shit all over himself (nonono, not the shield, God, Steve, he tried, he _tried_ ). He heard the snaps of condoms. Oh, now the fuckers are worried about hygiene?

They didn't bother to clean anything (the shield) up. The next guy replaced the front guy and it was back to work: fucking his now limp and numb body in front of his friends.

They told him how good he looked taking every cock, how his ass looked as red as a cherry, how filthy his mouth was as he sucked each cock so skillfully. They told him he was good, was keeping up his end of the bargain and how they so look forward to passing him around to the rest of HYDRA because that was all he was good for. Taking cock every which way, swallowing cum until his stomach swelled, moaning like a bitch in heat.

Thor's coming. He needed to keep up his end of his deal until then. The shield could be fixed. Clint and Steve may one day forgive him. Keep the legs spread. Relax. Take every inch. Stop whimpering. And stop feeling.

He closed his eyes and let the next one haul him off the shield and into a lap and two new dildos.

Thor's coming. Thor's coming.

 

Thor came.

He opened his eyes and smelled burning ozone. He heard Hulk roar and saw blood on the walls.

He smelled tears as Steve cradled him to his chest. He felt Clint carefully pull out the bloodied dildo out of his ass. He felt a rich red cape drape over his nude (dirty dirty dirty) body before Thor went back into fight with a righteous bellow only a god could make.

Widow appeared out of the corner of his swollen eye.

"They'll all be dead soon." Natasha, beautiful and deadly and _safe_ , Natasha brushed blood tipped fingers down his cheek.

"You're an idiot." Natasha punctuated it with a kiss to an eye. It disturbed an unshed tear. Because he wasn't crying. That was part of the deal.

"Safe?" he rasped. He whimpered. Talking made everything hurt. And leak. He was dirtying Thor's cape. He fidgeted.

"Sh." Clint curled a hand on his left ankle. "Keep still. Coulson's enroute."

"The shield," he sobbed. "I'm sorry."

Steve buried his face into his hair.

"Safe?" he asked again. "The d-deal was...everybody...did I do it?"

"Yes,:" Steve at last said in an extremely rough voice. "We're all safe." He kissed the top of his head.

"You saved us, Tony."

He sucked in his breath at his name. He brokenly smirked at Clint. Past the huddle, the noise of the dying was...well...dying.

"That was the deal," Tony whispered. His eyes drifted shut as familiar arms hugged him close. Bodies tightened the protective circle. Everyone was here. Safe. Untouched. _Whole._

He smiled to himself as darkness rewarded him with sleep.

The bargain was met.

His job was done.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> It started out just dark and gratuitous, but then it grew plot. Not sure how that happened. LOL...


End file.
